Tag Archives: Love

Princess Knight (vols. 1-2) by Osamu Tezuka, translated by Maya Rosewood

With all that swashbuckling fun, Princess Knight – recently available in full, in English translation, in two volumes – is seemingly one of the godfather of manga’s more goofy stories. Up in heaven, God’s in the process of deciding gender for each about-to-be-born baby, assigning a girl heart or a boy heart just before sending them down to earth. Mischievous angel Tink (a nominal nod to Tinkerbell?) decides one such baby “look[s] like you’d be a boy anyways!” and stuffs a blue heart in its mouth … but seconds later, God decides she’s going to be a girl, and suddenly she’s both. Uh-oh. So God orders Tink earthbound with the gender-bender baby to retrieve the boy heart if she turns out to the girl God foretold.

Down in earthly Silverland, the queen is about to give birth. She needs to bear a son to carry on the royal line, or else the throne will be stolen by an evil relative. Princess Sapphire enters the world, but in a stuttering mistranslation, a prince is announced to the assembled kingdom. The young royal grows up as Prince Sapphire (at least to the public) – even though she bears an uncanny resemblance to Disney’s animated Snow White. She’s the epitome of princely power, but give her a flouncy gown and a hefty wig, and she morphs into the most graceful and elegant stranger who (of course) captures the heart of Prince Franz Charming from the nearby kingdom of (what else?) Goldland.

But all is not well in the fair lands. Duke Duralumin is determined to install his less-than-competent son (named Plastic!) on the throne. Duralumin’s henchman Lord Nylon will do anything to get rid of Sapphire. Meanwhile, Madame Hell wants Prince Franz for her own daughter, the goddess Venus decides the hapless prince should actually be hers, and a handsome young pirate falls in love with Sapphire and vows to do her bidding. Through it all, Tink must try to keep Sapphire safe, long enough to return that errant heart to heaven.

Beneath the adventurous, fast-paced, often comical façade, Tezuka adds more than a few heavy-duty layers: gender politics, equality and equity, class issues, questions of identity, definitions of morality, and more. Most interestingly, Tezuka takes on Christianity, perhaps more overtly than in any other of his works (certainly that I’ve read thus far). From gender identification as God-ordained and the possibility of ‘holy’ mistakes in the first chapter (daring!), to the mix-and-matching of a Christian God with ancient Greek deities, to crucifix-fearing evil characters (including Satan), to surprising representations of heaven and hell, Tezuka pushes one button after another … just to see what might happen. The result is a delightful, thoughtful challenge – visually, intellectually … and even spiritually.

To check out other titles by the godfather of manga on BookDragon, click here.

Readers: Young Adult, Adult

Published: 2011 (United States) Continue reading

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Filed under ..Adult Readers, ..Young Adult Readers, .Fiction, .Graphic Novel/Manga/Manwha, .Translation, Japanese

Sông I Sing: Poems by Bao Phi

April is National Poetry Month. Every once in a long while, even a poetry-dullard like me has a poetic WOW!-moment. Certainly I’m not alone … Bao Phi is a nationally-lauded performance poet, twice winning the Minnesota Grand Poetry Slam and twice winning poetry slams at Nuyorican Poets Cafe in NYC. He’s appeared on HBO Presents Russell Simmons Def Poetry (season 3, episode 6), and was a National Poetry Slam finalist in 2000. His poem, “Race,” was selected in The Best American Poetry 2006.

Given his credentials, that Sông I Sing is Phi’s first collection is somewhat surprising, as welcome as it is. [He did previously debut three chapbooks Last Name First (2005), The Way We Pay (2004), and Surviving the Translation: Collected Poems from 1993-2002 (2002).] Dedicated “for my Asian American people,” Phi’s work is racial, historical, political, sociological … most of all, even when he’s subdued and thoughtful, Phi is angry – powerfully, elegantly, justifiably angry.

Of the four sections, each prefaced by the words of a fellow ethnic writer (Lac Su, Julie Otsuka, Pablo Neruda, Joy Harjo, David Mura), the second and longest proves most resonating for its simplicity and complexity both. Titled “The Nguyễns,” Phi opens with a quote from Julie Otsuka’s astonishing When the Emperor Was Divine: “Who am I? You know who I am. Or you think you do … I’m the one you call Gook. I’m the one you don’t see at all – we all look alike …”

In the section’s 14 poems, all share the common Vietnamese name Nguyễn, they might have had a few similar experiences, but none of them ‘look alike’: Vu Nguyễn from Sacramento wants his revenge against Chavis Johnson “for pushing me down in ninth grade / and calling me gook”; Kaylee Nguyễn from Chicago who, as a chef, wants to tell you “that when I see the wilted attempts at vegan Vietnamese cuisine / made by white people in co-ops / I think of Britney Spears in an áo dài”; John Nguyễn who is serving out his ROTC in Iraq who insists, “let no one say I fought this war to make a better world / for our unborn children”; Katrina Nguyễn from New Orleans who “never heard my own name more often … [b]ut no one sees me”; Dotty Nguyễn from Dallas who pleads “Ask me anything, just don’t ask me / To stop calling you my mother”; and Vinh and Linda Nguyễn sharing a fire escape reminisce about going “to that f**ked-up poetry show / even when I told you I felt like watching spoken word / was like paying five bucks to get punched repeatedly in the face / and say thank you – .” Despite the anger, Phi surely knows how to laugh, too …

This week in DC is not unlike a Bao Phi-celebration. With the annual AAAS (Association of Asian American Studies) Conference in capital residence, you’ll have multiple public opportunities to see, hear, experience Phi in livetime:

All you need to do is choose one … or more.

Readers: Young Adult, Adult

Published: 2011 Continue reading

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Filed under ..Adult Readers, ..Young Adult Readers, .Poetry, Vietnamese American

What Is the What: The Autobiography of Valentino Achak Deng by Dave Eggers

First things first: Let’s try to clear up some of the oxymoronic labels. Although this title is classified as a novel written by Dave Eggers (he of bad boy-genius fame for his debut, A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, and, of course, the mini-empire that is McSweeney’s), it’s also got “Autobiography” in the title. Yes, Valentino Achak Deng is a real person. And all the proceeds from this book go to Deng’s eponymously-named foundation, established in 2006 to improve the lives of Sudanese in Sudan and elsewhere. Yes, it’s written by Eggers in first person, that is, in Deng’s voice. The book opens with an important preface, signed by Deng in 2006, in Atlanta: “This book is the soulful account of my life …” But he also explains, “… over the course of many years, I told my story orally to the author. He then concocted this novel, approximating my own voice and using the basic events of my life as the foundation. Because many of the passages are fictional, the result is called a novel … though it is fictionalized, it should be noted that the world I have known is not so different from the one depicted within these pages.” [An expanded preface, written a year later by Deng, is available online here.]

Given some of the recent memorably-outed memoirs (James Frey’s A Million Little Pieces probably being the most high-profile, Greg Mortenson’s Three Cups of Tea being the most devastating), perhaps Eggers wanted to be especially careful. His own Staggering Genius had some hiccups in spite of catapulting him into literary stardom: his sister Beth’s public comments about accuracy (and then her sort-of retraction, followed by her shocking, tragic suicide), and the fact that later editions added a lengthy pre-book of multiple sections including a preface that begins, “For all the author’s bluster elsewhere, this is not, actually a work of pure nonfiction. Many parts have been fictionalized in varying degrees, various purposes.” Which is all reason enough why this Autobiography gets classified as a novel; it even garnered a “fiction finalist” honor for the 2006 National Book Critics Circle Awards. So we’re all clear now, right?

With the labels figured out, readers may well wish this was fiction, given the horrific nature of Deng’s experiences, and even more so the inhumanity as we humans prey upon one another, again and again and again.

“I have no reason not to answer the door so I answer the door,” the novel beings. There Deng finds an African American woman, asking to use his phone because her car broke down. His Good Samaritan trust will get him robbed, beaten, gagged, and bound for many hours. He’ll sit through a careless interview with the distracted police. He’ll be kept waiting for hours in an empty emergency room. He’ll walk the many miles to his early morning job at a health club where he will be lectured for getting into a fight by his boss. All during this ordeal, he will recount his wrenching life story in bits and pieces, speaking silently to the too-many uncaring strangers he encounters.

Deng is one of the Lost Boys of Sudan. He escaped widespread death and destruction in his small village in Sudan, spent 13 years wandering then surviving the refugee camps in Ethiopia and Kenya, and arrived in the U.S. as a refugee with virtually nothing. For most of his young life, Deng did not know the fate of his family. He watched his friends just sit down and die. He witnessed unspeakable violence. He experienced deprivation and suffering for which words cannot suffice. And yet in the midst of the neverending nightmares, he also recalls laughing with his friends, falling in love, being part of a caring makeshift family-of-circumstance, and is blessed with an especially nurturing bond with a Japanese aid worker in the Kenyan camp who keeps extending his African stay until he can see Deng safely on his way to the U.S. Even as he finally escapes, Deng’s new American life is hardly easy (crime and even murder doesn’t disappear), and yet he manages to hold on to hope … and, as always, survives.

“Even when my hours were darkest, I believed that some day I would share my experiences with readers, so as to prevent the same horrors from repeating themselves,” Deng concludes. “This book is a form of struggle, and it keeps my spirit alive to struggle. To struggle is to strengthen my faith, my hope, and my belief in humanity.” Readers: take note … that word again – humanity. Share the story, grab this book, reclaim humanity.

Readers: Adult

Published: 2006 Continue reading

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Filed under ..Adult Readers, .Audio, .Fiction, .Memoir, African, African American

Finding Miracles by Julia Alvarez

Sandwiched between sister Kate and brother Nate, Milly Kaufman is the only adopted child of their Jewish father and Mormon mother. She began life with the name Milagros (as in ‘miracles’), until she was claimed as an infant by parents working with the Peace Corps in a troubled, never-named Latin American country. While the family has always been candid about her birth, 16-year-old Milly just wants to fit in with the rest of their small Vermont town.

Milly’s faraway past arrives at school one day with the appearance of new student Pablo Bolivar, a refugee from her birthcountry. She overcomes her initial discomfort when their families begin to spend more time together, and Pablo proves to be a gentle, thoughtful soul who, in spite of his youth, has seen too much of a violent, troubled world.

As both families grow closer, Milly wonders more openly about her own history. When she inadvertently finds out that her wealthy grandmother’s revised will treats her differently from the other grandchildren, her concept of family shifts – and, for the first time, she’s ready to find out who she really is.

When new elections allow the Bolivars to return to their home country that summer, Milly decides to accompany them, even as her parents worry – her sister Kate most of all – that they are losing their little girl. Buffered by the extended Bolivar clan – especially by Pablo who becomes her guide, confidante, and more – Milly learns of her country’s horrific history … to which her own past is inextricably linked.

Julia Alvarez, whose own turbulent family history in the Dominican Republic has inspired multiple bestselling titles (most notably How the García Girls Lost Their Accents and In the Time of the Butterflies), treads an uneven line in Miracles, shifting between something akin to a happily-ever-after fairy tale and shockingly gory nightmare.

The miraculous coincidences Milly experiences in her birthcountry (finding someone connected to her orphanage almost on arrival, for example) seem just too convenient. Her selfish grandmother (who comes with her own European Jewish family baggage) has too easy a redemptive turnaround. To the other extreme, the horrors Milly learns that are part of her personal history seem far too graphic and gruesome for a middle grade/young adult title, as well as just too jarring with the rest of the story.

Disappointments aside, Daphne Rubin-Vega (who also narrates Alvarez’s Once Upon a Quinceañera) will convince you to keep the ‘play’-button on, bestowing gravitas on Milly’s growing awareness. What might occasionally flounder on the page definitely gets a lift from her husky, emotive voice. Now you know your options, choose wisely.

Readers: Middle Grade, Young Adult

Published: 2004 Continue reading

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Filed under ..Middle Grade Readers, ..Young Adult Readers, .Audio, .Fiction, Carribbean American, Latino/a

Shalimar the Clown by Salman Rushdie

I’ve been working through numerous ‘should-have-read-earlier’-titles lately, and Salman Rushdie‘s books always loom large as objects of fascination. After four attempts to read his The Enchantress of Florence (twice on the page, twice stuck in the ears narrated by Firdous Bamji whose recordings can make me choose a book more readily than the author!), I gave up and moved on (still feeling guilty) to Shalimar.

In spite of its hefty 400+ pages (or 18+ hours as lullingly read by Aasif Mandvi), Shalimar‘s story is relatively simple (spoiler alert!): boy and girl fall in love and marry, girl leaves boy for a powerful white man, girl bears lover’s daughter, boy vows he’ll kill the adulterers and any offspring, boy more or less succeeds.

Straightforward as it may seem, this is Rushdie, after all, and he needs to embellish his narratives with literary flourishes and  historical displays. The boy – known as Shalimar the Clown for his acrobatic prowess – and the girl – Boonyi Kaul – enter the world on the same day with all sorts of baggage, least of all being the children of Muslim and Hindu families, who in spite of an intimate shared history, will be victimized by massacres all too prevalent in the volatile region of Kashmir.

The American ambassador to India, Max Ophuls, for whom Boonyi freely chooses to destroy her family, turns out to be a French Jew who lost his disbelieving parents to the Holocaust, but gained an unparalleled reputation as a Resistance hero (not to mention quite the spy-bedding legend). Meanwhile, revenge-filled Shalimar outgrows Kashmir, becomes an international resistance fighter-of-sorts himself, although his dangerous exploits earn him the additional moniker of terrorist.

The abandoned hapa daughter – who detests her name “India” – pays the price for her birthmother’s betrayal. Boonyi must relinquish the infant to the beleaguered Mrs. Max, who is determined to leave the exotic country (now that her husband is being shamefully ejected) with a little brown baby in her arms. As payment for her newborn, Boonyi is returned to her village where she realizes too late, she was truly free, so unlike the gilded cage into which she willingly trapped herself. India is carelessly brought up by her father’s wife in a posh London neighborhood, not even knowing she has a father until years later. Poor little rich girl is so tediously self-absorbed, she quickly sinks into caricature.

This fall, Rushdie debuts his long-awaited memoir, Joseph Anton (an alias he used which pays homage to two of his favorite writers, Conrad and Chekhov), in which he details almost a decade of life underground following the infamous 1989 fatwa issued by Ayatollah Khomeini. I bring this up here because I wonder if Shalimar, in part, was a ‘practice’ text for the true story Rushdie was not yet ready to write: the threatening religious conflicts, the safe house Ophuls tries to create, India’s later search for safety, all could have been taken – even indirectly – from Rushdie’s own experiences of trying to stay alive. Perhaps the surreal nature of what he endured ended up intertwined with the (too-many) unconvincing machinations in Shalimar. For now, since truth is often stranger than fiction, we’ll just have to wait and see how the real story fares …

Readers: Adult

Published: 2006 Continue reading

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Filed under ..Adult Readers, .Audio, .Fiction, Indian, Indian American, South Asian, South Asian American

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

After two books on the horrors of North Korea, two memoirs about the Palestinian occupation, another about a Lost Boy of Sudan, still another highlighting Hindu/Muslim massacres in Kashmir – all one after the other (what was I thinking??!!) – I picked up Markus Zusak‘s The Book Thief, only because it came with my teenage daughter’s insistent recommendation. In spite of the Thief‘s countless (major) awards and accolades – it’s one of those rare titles with deservedly unanimous approval – I had managed to somehow bypass its celebrated pages for six years.

That the book is about a young girl during the Holocaust whose story is narrated by Death, gave me an initial shudder of terror, having already caused myself regular literary nightmares. But as read by Allan Corduner (who sounds uncannily like Jeremy Irons), the audible production is a transcendent experience of one of the best books I’ve encountered in years. And yes, I wholeheartedly endorse both handheld and stuck-in-the-ear formats together: if you choose only the not-to-be-missed audible route, you’ll miss the wrenching illustrations available only on the page. This is when the library comes in handy for experiencing both … how fitting as the book is so much about books, after all.

Liesel Meminger arrives in the small town of Molching, Germany, to become the foster daughter of Hans and Rosa Hubermann who live at 33 Himmel Street [Himmel means "heaven"; 33 is also deliberate]. The year is 1939, and Liesel is just about to turn 10. All around her, the Führer’s abominable doctrines are fueling what will be remembered as history’s worst war.

Hans, who plays the accordion like no one else, whom Liesel will love “the most,” will teach her to read, which will ultimately save her life. Rosa, who hides her enormous heart under impatient curses, will demand that Liesel call her new parents Mama and Papa and will love her unconditionally into forever. Rudy, her next-door neighbor and soon-to-be best friend, will finally get his kiss too late. And Max, who comes to live in the Hubermann basement, will give her the gift of writing … and of everlasting friendship.

In a book about the redemptive power of words, storytelling, and books, I can’t seem to find the right vocabulary to describe the utter brilliance of Thief. Just know that Zusack’s writing is so affecting and glorious that you’ll smile, hope, mourn, laugh, weep … and thoroughly, unabashedly, savor this extraordinary treasure.

Readers: Young Adult, Adult

Published: 2006 (United States) Continue reading

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Filed under ...Absolute Favorites, ..Adult Readers, ..Young Adult Readers, .Audio, .Fiction, Australian, European, Jewish

Bakuman (vols. 3-5) by Tsugumi Ohba, art by Takeshi Obata, translated by Tetsuichiro Miyaki

Manga-maker wannabes: check out this illuminating insider look (but do start with volumes 1 and 2), then make sure to study every detail if you’re hoping to break into one of the toughest industries around. But before we talk story, … Continue reading

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Filed under ..Middle Grade Readers, ..Young Adult Readers, .Fiction, .Graphic Novel/Manga/Manwha, .Translation, Japanese

Fortunate Son by Walter Mosley

Culling together every spare moment I had over a single day (amazing how much more enlightening mindless chores, endless driving, and running can be with a book stuck in your ears!), I managed to listen to all 9.5 hours of Lorraine Toussaint’s honeyed narration of Walter Mosley‘s tale of two brothers. Ironically, as much as I didn’t want to hit the ‘pause’ button, I also found myself getting more and more annoyed with every hour of the story.

About halfway through, I happened to have lunch with a longtime friend of Mosley’s (unreal how connected the world is!), a fact I learned in the midst of complaining about my rising anger. This mutual friend is one of the most dazzlingly erudite people I know; surprisingly, he confessed that he stopped reading Mosley’s books many years ago. Contrarily, I’ve just started, having been drawn in with The Last Days of Ptolemy Greyafter years of aborted attempts [Mosley has long been one of those authors I felt I "should" read]. He chuckled over my rants, and recommended (with warnings) I might try Mosley’s first, Devil in a Blue Dress, and call it a day … And, as soon as I heard “The End” with Son, I clicked over to “I was surprised to see a white man walk into Joppy’s Bar …” Oh, but I digress.

Branwyn Beerman sits in the hospital where her prematurely-born son Thomas lies between life and death with a hole in his lung. Thomas’ father Elton has all but deserted them both. Dr. Minas Nolan, a recent widower with a near-newborn son of his own, Eric, drives the young mother home one late night and sets in motion the interwoven trajectories of their two sons’ lives.

Branwyn and Thomas are African American. Minas and Eric are not. The nanny, Ahn, who will help raise both boys is a Vietnamese War refugee. For a short while, their co-mingled household will be an idyllic haven, especially for the two boys whose brotherly bond will be forever cemented. But happy endings can’t come this early – where’s the novel in that? – and by page 40, Branwyn is dead and the boys are forced apart.

Elton claims Thomas, and Minas lets him go far too easily. Suddenly torn from six years surrounded by unconditional love (not to mention Beverly Hills privilege), Thomas’ new life with his violent, irresponsible father is one bleak, horrific experience after another – bullying, truancy, drugs, prison, rape, homelessness. In utter contrast, Eric’s life couldn’t be more charmed as the good doctor’s golden son, even as he goes through much of it detached and unfeeling. More than a decade will pass before the two brothers see one another again … their reunion is literally explosive, thrusting two halves back together to become whole. But be patient a little longer: that final “happy” ending (a shocker) will require a few more additions to the total body count.

So why the annoyance and anger? I couldn’t get over the blatant stereotypes repeated over and over and over and over (and so on). Did I mention the lifelong loyal nanny who had to be an Asian war refugee who keeps a decades-old dress soaked in her mother’s blood, who was hired “‘so she could see trouble before it gets here’”? Oh, the exotic voodoohoodoo! Inscrutable even!

Surely, Son is an undeniable page-turner. But for all its twists and turns, it’s of the train-wreck variety from which you can’t turn your eyes away or, in my case, just can’t slide that iPod to off …

Tidbit: So that erudite friend responded to this with THIS: http://youtu.be/EQiEJk-o5WA – “I read so hard …!” SOOO clever! Did I mention erudite??!!

Readers: Adult

Published: 2006 Continue reading

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Filed under ..Adult Readers, .Fiction, African American

The Orphan Master’s Son by Adam Johnson

This is a book I bought twice: first to stick in my ears on long runs (chillingly read by a Korean American triumvirate of Tim Kang, Josiah D. Lee, and James Kyson Lee), and when I couldn’t soak in the story quickly enough, I ordered an on-paper version to hold in my hands in between plugging in. Yes, this novel is that addictively amazing.

I confess to initial wariness over Adam Johnson‘s ability to conjure a convincing story about a country as shuttered as North Korea (yes, he’s been there, and shares his experiences in the bonus essay at the end of the audible version, but as with most guests to the truly hermit kingdom, every detail of his visit was highly orchestrated). I also questioned the unrelenting violence in Orphan, so mind-boggling as to be comprehensible only as made-up nightmares.

All doubts vanished, however, when I read the upcoming non-fiction title, Escape from Camp 14: One Man’s Remarkable Odyssey from North Korea to Freedom in the West by journalist Blaine Harden, and had the horrific realization that Johnson’s novel, as stupendous as it is, is North Korea-lite. As utterly terrifying as Orphan is, its torturous content pales to what’s revealed in Camp 14. That truth proves paralyzing …

But back to fiction: Meet Pak Jun Do, whose name is not so dissimilar from the anonymous John Doe. “‘A John Doe has an exact identity,’” a CIA agent comments in response to Jun Do’s name, “‘It’s just waiting to be discovered.’” Indeed, Jun Do’s many-stage metamorphosis from a motherless young boy burdened with a North Korean martyr’s name to his reinvention decades later as another dead man, is a labyrinthine epic quest for self-knowledge, if not some semblance of redemption.

Jun Do grows up the only child of the Orphan Master at Long Tomorrows orphanage; one of his responsibilities is to rename the incoming boys “from the list of 114 Grand Martyrs of the Revolution.” These names will mark the orphans for life as rootless, even disposable beings. Not wanting to show any signs of favoritism, Jun Do, too, bears a martyr’s name and endures violent punishment from his father. Both father and son forever mourn the loss of wife and mother, a singer so beautiful that she was shipped off to Pyongyang to entertain citizens who actually matter.

Never able to shake his orphan name, the adult Jun Do endures a series of violent jobs, from kidnapping ordinary Japanese citizens to covertly tracking foreign radio signals from a fishing boat. He eventually boards a plane bound for Texas, returns to the homeland, and lands in a gruesome labor camp, only to re-emerge as someone else. He finds himself married to the woman of his dreams and as her replacement husband, he will do anything to save her from the glory of the Dear Leader …

More than a thriller, a mystery, or even a romance-of-sorts, Orphan is unshakable testimony to the power of storytelling. “For us,” a high-ranking official explains without irony, “the story is more important than the person. If a man and his story are in conflict, it is the man who must change.” Power belongs to the story – and stories become a matter of life and death. For Jun Do, trying to control his narrative in some small way is what will keep him alive …

Readers: Adult

Published: 2012 Continue reading

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Filed under ...Absolute Favorites, ..Adult Readers, .Audio, .Fiction, Korean, Nonethnic-specific, North Korean

Flesh by Khanh Ha

Flesh, a turn-of-the-20th-century debut novel set mostly in Hanoi, begins and ends with gruesome beheadings. Bearing witness to both executions is Tài, a poor teenage village boy quickly forced into manhood.

In an effort to reclaim his father’s severed head and finance an auspicious burial, Tài spends the next year on an odyssey of discovery about his betrayed bandit father, their troubled family, and his own unsure self. Indentured to a geomancer who sells his contract to a wealthy Chinese merchant, Tài glimpses the backstreet Hanoi life of opium dens, desperate coolies, and the lawless rich … where his first experience of falling in love incites his own vengeful violence.

Verdict: Written in cowboyish twang filled with “yup,” “ain’t,” “em,” “gonna,” – possibly meant to simulate the vernacular of the day – the novel never quite loses its anachronistic feel. One more edit might have trimmed some of the meandering passages and extraneous characters, but the fast-paced story pushes briskly to the finish. Readers who enjoy epic sagas set in faraway lands will find absorbing satisfaction here.

Review: “Fiction Reviews,” Library Journal, March 15, 2012

Readers: Adult

Published: 2012 Continue reading

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Filed under ..Adult Readers, .Fiction, Vietnamese, Vietnamese American