Romaner om Vietnam

Skal du til Vietnam? Her er noen forslag til romaner du kan lese i ventetiden fram til avreisen. (Omtalene nedenfor er hentet fra Amazon.com)

Bao Ninh (1994): Krigens sorg. Cappelen.
Kien, the protagonist of this rambling and sometimes nearly incoherent but emotionally gripping account of the Vietnam war, is a 10-year veteran whose experiences bear a striking similarity to those of the author, a Hanoi writer who fought with the Glorious 27th Youth Brigade. The novel opens just after the war, with Kien working in a unit that recovers soldiers' corpses. Revisiting the sites of battles raises emotional ghosts for him, "a parade of horrific memories" that threatens his sanity, and he finds that writing about those years is the only way to purge them. Juxtaposing battle scenes with dreams and childhood remembrances as well as events in Kien's postwar life, the book builds to a climax of brutality. A trip to the front with Kien's childhood sweetheart ends with her noble act of sacrifice, and it becomes clear to the reader that, in Vietnam, purity and innocence exist only to be besmirched. Covering some of the same physical and thematic terrain as Novel Without a Name (see above), The Sorrow of War is often as chaotic in construction as the events it describes. In fact, it is untidy and uncontrolled, like the battlefield it conveys. The point of view slips willy-nilly from the third person to the first, without any clear semblance of organization. The inclusion of a deaf mute who falls for Kien, and acts for a while as a witness to his life, seems gratuitous. The faults of this book are also its strengths, however. Its raggedness aptly evokes the narrator's feverish view of a dangerous and unpredictable world. And its language possesses a ferocity of expression that strikes the reader with all the subtlety of a gut-punch. Polishing this rough jewel would, strangely, make it less precious.

Duong Thu Huong (2003): De blindes paradis. Pax.
This staunchly unsentimental, evocative novel, originally published in Huong's native Vietnam and beautifully translated by Duong and McPherson, offers a narrative rich in detail and free of cliche. The author, who lives with her children in Hanoi, depicts the complexity of Vietnamese culture--the allegiance to family and ancestors, the symbolic value of food, class distinctions and the continuing sense of desperation mingled with pride. The protagonist, Hang, a physically fragile young woman of the '80s, recalls Hanoi in the previous decade. While there are subtle allusions to war and peacetime, Huong's focus is on the shifting, uneasy relationships between modernized Hang and her traditionalist mother, a merchant who peddles food; Hang's selfish, hypocritical uncle, a communist peasant; and Hang's comparatively wealthy, unconditionally loving aunt. Contrasts between young, old, urban and rural, help to convey the full variety of Vietnamese lifestyles. McPherson's introduction provides essential background information without spoiling the plot of Huong's unquestionably powerful tale.

Nguyen Du (1973): The Tale of Kieu (Vietnamesisk nasjonalepos). New York: Random House, Vintage Books.
This epic poem dates from the seventeenth century and is a cornerstone of Vietnamese literature. Radical in its subversion of traditional Confucian mores (the protagonist is a woman), *Truyen Kieu* defines the boundaries of modern Vietnamese culture. It is necessary reading for anyone who would hope to understand the bittersweet sentiment that undergirds the Vietnamese worldview.

Carsten Jensen (1998): Jeg har sett verden begynne (Kapittel om Vietnam, s. 341-533). Forlaget Press.
Jeg har sett verden begynne er den første av to bøker der Carsten Jensen skildrer sin reise rundt jorden. I dette første bindet går ferden med den transsibirske jernbanen fra Moskva, via Mongolia og fram til Beijing. Derfra finner han sin vei gjennom Kina, vekselvis med båt og tog, inn til Kambodsja hvor han spretter rundt for å bli kjent med ulike deler av dette medtatte og krigsherjede landet. Fra Kambodsja reiser han videre til et annet land som er vel så kjent med strid: Vietnam. Han avslutter første halvdel av ferden i Hong Kong.

Andrew X. Pham (1999): Catfish and Mandala. A Two-Wheeled Voyage Through the Landscape and Memory of Vietnam. California: Penguin?
In narrating his search for his roots, Vietnamese-American and first-time author Pham alternates between two story lines. The first, which begins in war-torn Vietnam, chronicles the author's hair-raising escape to the U.S. as an adolescent in 1977 and his family's subsequent and somewhat troubled life in California. The second recounts his return to Vietnam almost two decades later as an Americanized but culturally confused young man. Uncertain if his trip is a "pilgrimage or a farce," Pham...

Graham Greene (1955): The Quiet American. London: Penguin Books.
Into the intrigue and violence of Indo-China comes Pyle, a young idealistic American sent to promote democracy. As his native optimism starts to cause bloodshed, his friend Fowler, a cynical foreign correspondent, cannot stand aside and just watch.