Debris of Debris (Writers Association Publishers 2016) by Vinh Quyen is the first Vietnamese-authored English-language novel written in Vietnam, and has also been published in the UK and in the US. In the beginning, the work faced problems being licenced by the authorities, until its Vietnamese translation, Mảnh vỡ của mảnh vỡ, published in January this year was awarded top prize in the 2011-2015 Vietnam Writers Association Novel Competition. In September, Debris of Debris became was also published.

  Cover of Vinh Quyen’s novel “Debris of Debris”. Photo provided by Vinh Quyen

A song of a lost generation

There are hundreds if not thousands of well-written, fictional and non-fictional works both fiction about the American War in Vietnam, including the New York Times best seller Matterhorn by Marlantes, Vietnam: A History by Karnow, and Dispatches by Herr. Most works end with the fall of Saigon in 1975, while others, particularly about American veterans, pick up in the present or more recent past, such as The Time In Between by Bergen. However, few works have explored the period immediately following the end of the war, whether in America or Vietnam.

While Debris of Debris has been compared to The Sorrow of War by Bao Ninh, and described as an ‘excellent, masculine war narrative’ by critic Thuy Linh, and even ‘a story of post-war hardships’ by myself in my 2013 article Two Years With Debris, I’m afraid that in retrospect, we have slightly missed the mark. When reviewing the book for its 2016 publication, I realised that Debris of Debris is more subtle and more universal than a war or post-war narrative; rather, the book tells the story of the slow decline and unravelling of the innocence and idealism of youth. The main characters are a lost generation of southern Vietnamese students picking up the ‘debris’ of their lives and trying to start again after the war ends in 1975. In this respect, Debris of Debris could be seen as the voice of fragmented youth in the same way works like The Great Gatsby by Fitzgerald, or On the Road by Jack Kerouac, … By skilfully combining a specific and unique historical backdrop, which at the same time serves as a catalyst for events, together with universal and cross-generational themes each of these works embodies the soul of both a generation in time and of a time of life. The backdrop and catalyst of Debris of Debris is the end of a two-decades-long war. The primary theme of the book, as the main character Kha states is ‘to survive the war is one thing, to live happily in the post-war period is another.’ Or to survive is one thing, to live happily is another? The fact that the book explores this broader question equally well is what creates the cross-cultural, cross-generational vein running through any enduring work of literature.

At the same time, Debris of Debris is exceptionally culturally and historically informative. This feature is crucial for Western audiences who know little or nothing about Vietnamese culture outside of the war context. Born in Hue, yet living much of his life in Da Nang, the author conjures an original blend of scenes, characters and anecdotes that offer the reader insight into both urban society as well as feudal traditions. From the US jeep riddled with bullets resembling a constellation and the dim, stained-glass oil lamps of Kha’s family altar, to unique personalities like Binh, the napalm-scarred forestry professor and Giang, the orphan who smells of mud from the Perfume River, to deeper social issues like poverty and prostitution, the author pulls readers into a world of colours, smells, sensations and sex that awakens the vitality of an age lost to black and white photographs. The descriptions are often so vivid I cannot help but wonder which parts of the book are autobiographical and which characters the author identifies with. The stories are too detailed to be completely fictional.

Writer Vinh Quyen

Pioneering bilingual Vietnamese literature

Debris of Debris is the first Vietnamese-authored English language novel in Vietnam. Vinh Quyen’s proficiency in English has allowed him to choose his words and expressions directly, rather than his native Vietnamese having to pass through a translator, as is nearly always the case with works of other writers. English is the foreign language, more than any other, Vietnamese young people use to learn, communicate, and discover the world. As Vietnam settles into the twenty-first century, the government has recognised the importance of English fluency and is strongly encouraging schools to adopt it as a second language. I completely agree with this decision, and also ask whether Vietnam could look to the highly successful language policies of Singapore as a model for the classroom and society, not to mention literature? Bilingual books are good for this purpose since they can act as a cultural and linguistic bridge at a time when Vietnam is also ‘bridging’ languages. As the author of a bilingual book myself, I hope both governmental and private organisations and agencies will recognise the importance of bilingual literature and provide support for similar and greater undertakings, such as bilingual collaborations with writers and translators from other countries, as well as the commissioning of translations of classic and modern Vietnamese literature. With the support from abroad, Vietnamese authors could take the first steps in telling their story on an international stage.

The process Debris of Debris underwent could inform such collaborations. At the moment, this is still a new concept in Vietnam, though not in other Asian countries. Classic works by Chinese authors like Lu Xun and Japanese authors like Natsume Soseki are available in bilingual collections online, and at Western bookstores and university libraries. This is not to mention countless translations of modern award-winning Asian literature into foreign languages (Mo Yan; Haruki Murakami). At the moment, Vietnamese literature is lacking such a selection for English-speaking audiences. For Americans, particularly people of my generation, to better understand the endlessly rich and dynamic Vietnam of the twentieth century, bilingual and translated literature is a crucial tool of cultural diplomacy and awareness. In this sense, Vinh Quyen’s Debris of Debris is firmly planted at the centre of a cultural, historical, and linguistic crossroads.

Zac Herman, an American translator who spent two years with the author editing Debris of Debris, and who has recently published the bilingual collection Ai Biết Bay – Who can fly? (Writers Association Publishers, 2016).