A Book A Week

Like many wives of the era, Tricia finds herself in Saigon in 1963. Her husband has taken a job contributing to the war efforts, leading the newlyweds to spend the initial years of their marriage overseas. While the men are occupied with work, the women engage in various charitable activities, primarily involving cocktail party fundraisers, all aimed at making their own contributions. When Tricia attends one such event at Charlene's house, she is immediately impressed by the woman's polished exterior. Charlene, a corporate wife and mother of three, is motivated by her desire to alleviate the world's hardships. Their connection deepens when Charlene's youngest child unexpectedly vomits on Tricia, igniting a bond that will reshape both of their lives.

Nearly sixty years later, Rainey, Charlene's daughter, reaches out to Tricia, who now lives a quiet life as a widow in Washington. As they reconnect, they reminisce about their time in Southeast Asia and the complex woman they both share in common. While there are joyful recollections, the narrative delves deeper into their lives, shaped and limited by Charlene's pursuit of "inconsequential good." Through flashbacks and Tricia's introspective moments, we witness how these women, and many like them, lived and learned during this significant historical period.

In Absolution, Alice McDermott writes less about the history of the Vietnam War and more about the profound impact it had on the women who experienced it. The titular theme of absolution centers around Tricia, the main character, as she grapples with redeeming herself from various sins—as a wife, a mother, and as part of a nation embroiled in an unwinnable war. McDermott skillfully navigates this complex introspection with a graceful subtlety that is truly remarkable. Not driven by a specific plot, the novel serves as a character study, sometimes appearing disjointed yet intricately weaving various events into the tapestry of Tricia's life. It stands as a deeply moving exploration of how we navigate the uncertainties that life presents. I found it to be a remarkable and contemplative read, providing a serene space for reflection within the recesses of my own thoughts and expectations.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2023, 91)

"Knowledge allows remembering, and remembering is honoring."

I'm not one to stick closely to the daily news cycle. That being said, it has been hard to watch politicians fight over banning books and censoring history, especially as they do nothing to stop school shootings like the one that occurred this week. With so much hate and deceit in the world, it can be hard to remain hopeful. Still, our optimism must remain. How do we keep this positive outlook? I don't pretend to have the answers, but I do see plenty of things that help me maintain an enthusiastic mindset.  In the book world, more and more diverse authors are telling their stories, introducing readers to a wider array of realities. Even more promising, it seems like these tales are capturing a broader audience than ever before. Add Cecile Pin's debut novel Wandering Souls into that category. She's written a searing portrait of a family's history through war, immigration, and assimilation. It is the kind of story that demands to be read. One that is powerful and poignant in its perspective. 

In the years following the Vietnam War, it is clear to Anh's parents that the promises of a bright future rest outside of their home country. Anh's uncle has taken his family to live the American dream, a dream that Anh's father plans to pursue too. This is a huge, life-changing moment for the family. Anh's parents know that the journey to a better life will be as perilous as it will be rewarding. They send Anh and the other eldest children on the trip to Hong Kong first. They promise that they and the younger siblings will not be far behind. The full family will be reunited in China before embarking on the next leg of their trip. This promise, though, will not be kept. Anh's parents and younger siblings are killed during their travels, leaving the fragmented remains of the family left to journey ahead alone. 

Over the next several decades, Anh and her surviving siblings are left to pick up the pieces of their father's shattered dream. They land first in a resettlement camp, a place where they interact with other immigrants, struggling to hold on to their identities. When they finally are placed back into the real world they land not in America, but in the UK. Their new home doesn't offer the bright future they were promised. Instead, the siblings face anti-immigrant hate and systemic social inequality. Instead of coming together, to form their new life, each sibling slowly diverges from the other. Racked with survivor's guilt and a desire to pave their own path, they'll have to reckon with the ghosts of their past to find their way to a brighter future. 

I can't give enough praise to this book. I was entranced by the story told in Wandering Souls, and I'm grateful to the publisher for providing me with a copy of it. Cecile Pin has written a novel that deals with the challenges of memory. How do we keep the memory of loved ones alive? How do we honor our past while moving toward the future? These are the things Pin grapples with. The characters in the book give us an insight into the realities of being an immigrant to a foreign country. Pin intersperses the third-person narrative of her main character Anh with the first-person voice of Anh's deceased younger brother. This ghostly voice ties everything that happens in Anh's life to her past, never fully allowing her to escape it. Also included in the narrative are snippets of factual articles from the time, grounding this fiction in the reality of the world it depicts. These elements come together to tell a visceral story of family, love, and loss. Wandering Souls is the best, most important book that I've read this month, and will no doubt be among my favorite reads of the year. 

For more information visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2023, 18)