[Trần Vũ, center front, with his family in Saigon in 1968] On 1/27/22, a Vietnamese webzine, Trẻ [Youth], published an interview of Trần Vũ, who is widely regarded as the finest Vietnamese prose writer of his generation. Most of his best writing has not been translated into French or
Thank you, sir. Essays like this one are the reason so many readers follow your work regularly. This is the kind of essay that belongs in a beautiful, collectible hardcover edition.
I sincerely hope to see that book someday. If publishers still reject you, you could self-publish and sell directly as a fund raiser. I would be your first customer!
Thank you again, Mr. Dinh. Please stay safe and well.
Linh--very nice work, puts it all in perspective! I recently completed a survey for an academic study, and one question asked me to comment on the most traumatic experience of my life. I've gone through numerous tests in that time, but realized that nothing I thought was difficult at the time it happened could hold a candle to what tens of millions experience off and on throughout their entire, sometimes prematurely truncated lifetimes.
Beautiful story, and unsettling prophecy. You are right that since the Greatest Generation we Americans have not been tested. What is abundantly evident is that when it comes, most of us will not have the stuff to meet that test.
I remember reading a harrowing war story by Bao Ninh a few years ago. He served from 1969 until 1975. That is such a long time to fight, but from my limited understanding of the conflict, I have heard that the NVA were exceptionally tough. I can only imagine the horrors which he (or any combatant with a soul) experienced. Then to write about it...
Linh, excuse this unrelated comment: do you have an email where readers may correspond with you? I have a few things that I’d rather not put in SubStack. Either way, thanks.
"If you haven’t already, you, too, will soon ask, “Why did everything I knew disappear?”
As an American immigrant (refugee if we're being frank) to Russia, I feel caught between two unraveling worlds. I can stay here and try to ride out a sinking ship against my better judgment, or leave everything and run back to the (hated) USA and right back into that glue trap from which I fought so hard to extract myself eight years ago, where my son will just whither and die on the vine.
Thank you, sir. Essays like this one are the reason so many readers follow your work regularly. This is the kind of essay that belongs in a beautiful, collectible hardcover edition.
I sincerely hope to see that book someday. If publishers still reject you, you could self-publish and sell directly as a fund raiser. I would be your first customer!
Thank you again, Mr. Dinh. Please stay safe and well.
Linh--very nice work, puts it all in perspective! I recently completed a survey for an academic study, and one question asked me to comment on the most traumatic experience of my life. I've gone through numerous tests in that time, but realized that nothing I thought was difficult at the time it happened could hold a candle to what tens of millions experience off and on throughout their entire, sometimes prematurely truncated lifetimes.
Beautiful story, and unsettling prophecy. You are right that since the Greatest Generation we Americans have not been tested. What is abundantly evident is that when it comes, most of us will not have the stuff to meet that test.
Hi Linh,
I remember reading a harrowing war story by Bao Ninh a few years ago. He served from 1969 until 1975. That is such a long time to fight, but from my limited understanding of the conflict, I have heard that the NVA were exceptionally tough. I can only imagine the horrors which he (or any combatant with a soul) experienced. Then to write about it...
Linh, excuse this unrelated comment: do you have an email where readers may correspond with you? I have a few things that I’d rather not put in SubStack. Either way, thanks.
Always a pleasure to read your essays.
"If you haven’t already, you, too, will soon ask, “Why did everything I knew disappear?”
As an American immigrant (refugee if we're being frank) to Russia, I feel caught between two unraveling worlds. I can stay here and try to ride out a sinking ship against my better judgment, or leave everything and run back to the (hated) USA and right back into that glue trap from which I fought so hard to extract myself eight years ago, where my son will just whither and die on the vine.