Review of Andrew Lam Birds of Paradise Lost
Some of you might be familiar with Andrew Lam'due south previous piece of work "Perfume Dreams: Reflections of the Vietnamese Diaspora"and "East Eats Westward: Writing in Ii Hemispheres".In his new volume, Birds of Paradise Lost,Lam challenges the expectations of the "immigrant story" in a compilation of xiii stories of immigrants who fled Vietnam to start a new life in the San Francisco Bay Surface area. Eric Nguyen reviews Lam'south book.
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In the championship story of Andrew Lam's fiction debut,Birds of Paradise Lost, a group of elderly Viet Kieu men mourn the death of their friend, a local paper owner who burned himself in protest of communists "who ruined [his] country" and the US government's ain inactivity towards the "human being rights violations in Vietnam." The man is proclaimed a hero and shortly after, his friends promise the sacrificial suicide will not go in vain. "Brother Bac," says Thang, an one-time professor, giving a toast to his departed friend. "Don't be surprised if I follow your footsteps. We'll evidence the Americans, not to mention the younger generation, what one-time men are capable of." At this annunciation, his son walks in, furious that his father would follow such an casuistic course of action. "To alive fighting for something is different than to dice in its name, especially when information technology's uncalled for," his son writes in a letter to the editor the next day. Subsequently, his son drives him home and they argue nigh overseas activism. At the end of the story, Thang jumps out of his son'southward car and walks aimlessly down the streets of San Jose, asking himself if he could always possibly sacrifice his life here in the U.s. for the freedom of people in another country that is longer his.
In a style, the title story represents the tension in much of the stories inBirds of Paradise Lost. What does Vietnam mean, at present that it is and so far away? What is the pregnant of America, this new home? The reply is never simple in these stories that chronicle the lives of those who are haunted past their by, yet are thrown into new lives. Thang speaks to his friends, "drawing inspiration from the quondam days when still lecturing in Saigon on Vietnamese history." This is a hitting dissimilarity to his activism in us, where he dons "black pajamas" and "[sits] inside a flimsy bamboo cage on Lion Plaza…demonstrating against Hanoi's unjustifiable arrests of clergymen and dissidents back home" as "shoppers walked by…and children giggled every bit they stared at the sight." Lam's stories are almost memory and what happens to these memories in one case ane is removed from their place of origin.
His stories not only touch on older generations, merely also the younger ones as well, giving readers a diverse cast of characters ranging from former professors to eye-historic period gay men to teenagers who take adopted the slang of their new urban neighborhood. In "Show & Tell" a recently immigrated seventh grader returns to school. The students are malicious and they bully him: "I hear they eat dogs over there is that truthful?" says 1 classmate. "They swallow bugs and snakes for tiffin," proclaims another, all of which is fabricated worse by the fact that the student is mute in his new country, unable to say anything except a heavily accented "no undohsten." At the climax of the story, the boy breaks downwardly and elaborates on his ain journey through chalkboard drawings—how he escaped, how his father was left behind, and how he remains haunted. Information technology'south a moment of great empathy that gives voice to an otherwise voiceless figure of the immigrant.
What is refreshing nigh Lam's work is that it defies expectations of "immigrant story." Expectantly, there is intense grief associated with the loss of one'due south homeland as well as the challenges of assimilation and survival. In "Hunger" a single begetter struggles to carve out a place for himself and his daughter in Section eight housing, while attempting to come up to terms with the death of his wife at sea. In "Step Upwards and Whistle," the narrator'south uncle finds himself in problem for re-living the past in a museum and is taken into police custody, all the same there is besides a proficient mensurate of humor, irony, and strangeness. In "Love Leather," a leather smith daydreams virtually his old business in Vietnam and plans to build a new one every bit he works in a Southward&M sexual practice store in San Francisco. To abound his business, he decides to go to the infamous Folsom Street Fair, an annual public BDSM gathering that highlights San Francisco's Leather Pride Week. In "Bright Clouds Over the Mekong," a Vietnamese widow finds the American veteran who killed her husband and plots his revenge through prescription drugs and poisonous "black grass." She eventually falls for the man and struggles to keep her plan. Lam's stories are fresh in their mixture of sense of humor and tragedy. They teeter between the possible and improbable. By doing so, Lam recasts the immigrant narrative with a feeling of both uncertainty and surrealism—for what is more surreal than leaving your country by boat and so starting a new life in a formerly centrolineal nation? In the most surreal story, "Grandma's Tales," Lam takes a page from GeorgeSaunders and revives a dead dame: "I lost everything I owned when I left my beautiful country behind," she says before leaving her grandchildren for a date with a famous novelist, "But now I have a second risk."
A REVIEW OF ANDREW LAM'Southward BIRDS OF PARADISE LOSTPosted on Jul viii, 2013| Exit a comment ane Vote
Some of yous might be familiar with Andrew Lam'south previous work "Perfume Dreams: Reflections of the Vietnamese Diaspora"and "East Eats West: Writing in Two Hemispheres".In his new book, Birds of Paradise Lost,Lam challenges the expectations of the "immigrant story" in a compilation of thirteen stories of immigrants who fled Vietnam to offset a new life in the San Francisco Bay Area. Eric Nguyen reviews Lam'due south book.
Accept you subscribed to diaCRITICS yet? Subscribe and win prizes! Read more details.
In the championship story of Andrew Lam'due south fiction debut,Birds of Paradise Lost, a group of elderly Viet Kieu men mourn the death of their friend, a local newspaper owner who burned himself in protest of communists "who ruined [his] state" and the US government'south own inactivity towards the "human being rights violations in Vietnam." The human is proclaimed a hero and presently later on, his friends promise the sacrificial suicide will not go in vain. "Blood brother Bac," says Thang, an sometime professor, giving a toast to his departed friend. "Don't be surprised if I follow your footsteps. We'll testify the Americans, not to mention the younger generation, what erstwhile men are capable of." At this proclamation, his son walks in, furious that his father would follow such an illogical grade of action. "To alive fighting for something is different than to die in its name, especially when information technology's uncalled for," his son writes in a letter to the editor the next day. Later, his son drives him habitation and they argue nigh overseas activism. At the end of the story, Thang jumps out of his son'due south machine and walks aimlessly down the streets of San Jose, asking himself if he could ever possibly sacrifice his life here in the U.s. for the liberty of people in another land that is longer his.
In a way, the title story represents the tension in much of the stories inBirds of Paradise Lost. What does Vietnam hateful, now that information technology is so far away? What is the meaning of America, this new home? The reply is never unproblematic in these stories that chronicle the lives of those who are haunted past their by, yet are thrown into new lives. Thang speaks to his friends, "drawing inspiration from the old days when still lecturing in Saigon on Vietnamese history." This is a striking contrast to his activism in the States, where he dons "black pajamas" and "[sits] inside a flimsy bamboo muzzle on King of beasts Plaza…demonstrating against Hanoi's unjustifiable arrests of clergymen and dissidents dorsum dwelling" every bit "shoppers walked past…and children giggled as they stared at the sight." Lam'south stories are about memory and what happens to these memories once one is removed from their identify of origin.
His stories not only touch on older generations, but as well the younger ones equally well, giving readers a diverse cast of characters ranging from erstwhile professors to centre-age gay men to teenagers who take adopted the slang of their new urban neighborhood. In "Prove & Tell" a recently immigrated seventh grader returns to schoolhouse. The students are malicious and they bully him: "I hear they consume dogs over there is that true?" says 1 classmate. "They consume bugs and snakes for tiffin," proclaims another, all of which is made worse by the fact that the student is mute in his new state, unable to say anything except a heavily accented "no undohsten." At the climax of the story, the boy breaks down and elaborates on his own journeying through chalkboard drawings—how he escaped, how his begetter was left behind, and how he remains haunted. It's a moment of cracking empathy that gives vocalism to an otherwise voiceless effigy of the immigrant.
What is refreshing well-nigh Lam's work is that it defies expectations of "immigrant story." Expectantly, there is intense grief associated with the loss of 1'due south homeland likewise as the challenges of assimilation and survival. In "Hunger" a single male parent struggles to cleave out a place for himself and his daughter in Section viii housing, while attempting to come to terms with the death of his wife at sea. In "Step Up and Whistle," the narrator'south uncle finds himself in trouble for re-living the by in a museum and is taken into law custody, notwithstanding there is besides a adept mensurate of sense of humour, irony, and strangeness. In "Love Leather," a leather smith daydreams well-nigh his old business in Vietnam and plans to build a new i every bit he works in a S&G sexual practice store in San Francisco. To grow his business, he decides to go to the infamous Folsom Street Off-white, an annual public BDSM gathering that highlights San Francisco's Leather Pride Week. In "Brilliant Clouds Over the Mekong," a Vietnamese widow finds the American veteran who killed her husband and plots his revenge through prescription drugs and poisonous "black grass." She eventually falls for the homo and struggles to continue her program. Lam's stories are fresh in their mixture of humor and tragedy. They teeter between the possible and improbable. By doing so, Lam recasts the immigrant narrative with a feeling of both uncertainty and surrealism—for what is more than surreal than leaving your country by gunkhole and then starting a new life in a formerly allied nation? In the most surreal story, "Grandma's Tales," Lam takes a page from GeorgeSaunders and revives a expressionless matriarch: "I lost everything I owned when I left my beautiful country behind," she says before leaving her grandchildren for a date with a famous novelist, "But now I have a second chance."
Indeed,Birds of Paradise Lost is near second chances and the mixed success of starting over. In "Sister" a wealthy real manor agent tries her best to escape her personal history. After telling a client she'south Vietnamese, she instantly regrets information technology. "Why hadn't she said she was Chinese?" Notwithstanding a nightmare involving her escape past boat begins to resurface and she soon finds herself involuntarily dialing the number of her quondam firm in Vietnam. "How difficult is it to permit the past go?" the narrator asks. Lam'southward stories are poignant and powerful in the chronicling of not merely Vietnamese Americans, but of homo frailty and strength too.
Eric Nguyen is a writer from Maryland. He has a degree in sociology from the University of Maryland forth with a certificate in LGBT Studies. He is currently an MFA candidate at McNeese Land University and lives in Louisiana.
Andrew Lam is the writer ofPerfume Dreams: Reflections on the Vietnamese Diaspora, which won the 2006 PEN Open Book Accolade, andE Eats West: Writing in Two Hemispheres. Lam is an editor and cofounder of New American Media, an association of over 2 grand ethnic media outlets in America. He was a regular commentator on NPR'sAll Things Considered for many years, and was the subject of a 2004 PBS documentary calledMy Journey Home. His essays accept appeared in newspapers and magazines such equallyThe New York Times,The LA Times, theSan Francisco Chronicle,The Baltimore Dominicus,The Atlanta Journal, theChicago Tribune,Mother Jones, andThe Nation, among many others. His brusque stories have been widely taught and anthologized.Birds of Paradise Lost is his first story drove. He lives in San Francisco.
Source: https://www.goodreads.com/author_blog_posts/4489425-a-review-of-birds-of-paradise-lost
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