Among the books I’ve read this summer, Monkey Bridge by Lan Cao, is the only one about Vietnam. That was not really intentional, but as I am going back to my place in Hanoi next week, it seems appropriate to aim my blog thoughts in that direction again. The name of the book refers to the high bamboo walking bridges that were common on the Mekong Delta in southern Vietnam. I cannot claim much experience on them myself, but they require a certain agility and poise, I am told, in order to avoid being dumped into the Mekong, or the mud, or whatever is under the bridge.
The book is more specifically about the agility and poise required to navigate life in America as a Vietnamese immigrant after the war. I tend to shy away from novels on my to-read list, but this one struck me as unusually effective in illuminating the various perspectives, or worldviews, relevant to the story. The traditional Confucian structure of life in Vietnam is embodied by the main character’s grandfather. Confucianism is very structured and clear-cut, but, as with most philosophies and religions in most places, the application of the theory inevitably ushers in a practical mingling of the things that make sense for the time and place with the rigidness of the ideal. The main character, as a young person thrown into life in America, adapts with a flexibility and willingness that her mother, although in some way seeing the necessity of it, cannot display. The practical necessity of accepting one system and essentially rejecting the other is clear.
The difficulties of migration, under any circumstances really, are not easily understood by people like me, who are fortunate enough to live with the luxury of choosing so many things about life which most people can only dream of. However the human experience, across the lines of geography, ethnicity, wealth and religion, is more alike than it is different. The depth of the characters in this book and their accessibility to the reader, while remaining firmly rooted to the place and time of their lives, demonstrates that parity.
* * * * *
On rather another subject entirely, but also this summer, I read King Leopold’s Ghost by Adam Hochschild. It describes the genocidal reign of King Leopold II of Belgium over the Congo beginning in the late 1800’s. The backbone of the book is the facts. Most of the facts are disturbing, to put it mildly. This is not news, not many people would be surprised to hear of the horrors of colonialism in Africa, or anywhere else.
This book, however, is made significantly more intriguing by the numerous character studies undertaken on those who were part of the movement against Leopold’s Congo, those who understood the nature of “the system” and made great efforts to expose it to the public and change it. I was fascinated to see how he linked the earlier abolitionist movements, the campaign against Leopold’s Congo, and modern humanitarian organizations. Frankly, I would have liked reading more of that evolution and less of the endless deceits and shrewd political manoeuvres implemented by Leopold to keep his murderous personal colony sending him profits, as more and more people understood the brutal nature of it.
If you know anything about the DR Congo, you can see the connections between the methods used by Leopold’s people and the general mindset of the government into the present. I say that, really, rather blindly, not having any particular knowledge of DR Congo other than a book or three and reading the news. It’s a good book if you are up for a disturbing bit of history that is, well, not widely known, if not swept under the rug.
There was a really nice documentary on the Congo I saw in Hanoi awhile back, my comments are here.
* * * * *
And speaking of humanitarian organizations, here is another summer book about the dangers of idealism run amok. Emma’s War by Deborah Scroggins tells the true story of a young British woman who gets involved in aid work and ends up in southern Sudan married to a local warlord. Hmm.
The book includes some history of the conflict in Sudan, which seems to me a good thing – it puts the news articles and ‘starving child’ TV ads in at least a little bit of perspective. Not that starving children need perspective, but me, I need perspective. After all, the UN and NGO capital of East Africa would be Nairobi, and I’ve been there. The southern Sudan conflict is at least similar to, if not directly related to the current situation in Darfur, which is next to Chad and I’ve been there. Having been somewhere gives me license to want to learn more about it, not to make blanket statements on things I know nothing about… Oh yeah, the book, I was talking about the book.
Aside from what it tells you about Sudan, the book also explores the world of humanitarian and aid workers in conflict zones. It’s a funny job description which requires an extreme degree of dedication to a cause or plain craziness to provide motivation for the position, and in the face of that, the realism and pragmatism to actually live and work in a war zone without getting killed. Emma, the subject of the book, had both of those, for the most part. Well, at least at first... In any case, it’s a great story – read the book.
The book is more specifically about the agility and poise required to navigate life in America as a Vietnamese immigrant after the war. I tend to shy away from novels on my to-read list, but this one struck me as unusually effective in illuminating the various perspectives, or worldviews, relevant to the story. The traditional Confucian structure of life in Vietnam is embodied by the main character’s grandfather. Confucianism is very structured and clear-cut, but, as with most philosophies and religions in most places, the application of the theory inevitably ushers in a practical mingling of the things that make sense for the time and place with the rigidness of the ideal. The main character, as a young person thrown into life in America, adapts with a flexibility and willingness that her mother, although in some way seeing the necessity of it, cannot display. The practical necessity of accepting one system and essentially rejecting the other is clear.
The difficulties of migration, under any circumstances really, are not easily understood by people like me, who are fortunate enough to live with the luxury of choosing so many things about life which most people can only dream of. However the human experience, across the lines of geography, ethnicity, wealth and religion, is more alike than it is different. The depth of the characters in this book and their accessibility to the reader, while remaining firmly rooted to the place and time of their lives, demonstrates that parity.
* * * * *
On rather another subject entirely, but also this summer, I read King Leopold’s Ghost by Adam Hochschild. It describes the genocidal reign of King Leopold II of Belgium over the Congo beginning in the late 1800’s. The backbone of the book is the facts. Most of the facts are disturbing, to put it mildly. This is not news, not many people would be surprised to hear of the horrors of colonialism in Africa, or anywhere else.
This book, however, is made significantly more intriguing by the numerous character studies undertaken on those who were part of the movement against Leopold’s Congo, those who understood the nature of “the system” and made great efforts to expose it to the public and change it. I was fascinated to see how he linked the earlier abolitionist movements, the campaign against Leopold’s Congo, and modern humanitarian organizations. Frankly, I would have liked reading more of that evolution and less of the endless deceits and shrewd political manoeuvres implemented by Leopold to keep his murderous personal colony sending him profits, as more and more people understood the brutal nature of it.
If you know anything about the DR Congo, you can see the connections between the methods used by Leopold’s people and the general mindset of the government into the present. I say that, really, rather blindly, not having any particular knowledge of DR Congo other than a book or three and reading the news. It’s a good book if you are up for a disturbing bit of history that is, well, not widely known, if not swept under the rug.
There was a really nice documentary on the Congo I saw in Hanoi awhile back, my comments are here.
* * * * *
And speaking of humanitarian organizations, here is another summer book about the dangers of idealism run amok. Emma’s War by Deborah Scroggins tells the true story of a young British woman who gets involved in aid work and ends up in southern Sudan married to a local warlord. Hmm.
The book includes some history of the conflict in Sudan, which seems to me a good thing – it puts the news articles and ‘starving child’ TV ads in at least a little bit of perspective. Not that starving children need perspective, but me, I need perspective. After all, the UN and NGO capital of East Africa would be Nairobi, and I’ve been there. The southern Sudan conflict is at least similar to, if not directly related to the current situation in Darfur, which is next to Chad and I’ve been there. Having been somewhere gives me license to want to learn more about it, not to make blanket statements on things I know nothing about… Oh yeah, the book, I was talking about the book.
Aside from what it tells you about Sudan, the book also explores the world of humanitarian and aid workers in conflict zones. It’s a funny job description which requires an extreme degree of dedication to a cause or plain craziness to provide motivation for the position, and in the face of that, the realism and pragmatism to actually live and work in a war zone without getting killed. Emma, the subject of the book, had both of those, for the most part. Well, at least at first... In any case, it’s a great story – read the book.
