The Universality of the War Experience
The first thing I noticed about this novel is how much the main character's experience of war echoes the experience portrayed in American novels. There are striking similarities to the disillusionment of Rob Riggan's Free Fire Zone and Stephen Wright's Meditations in Green. And, like Nicholas Proffitt's Gardens of Stone, Novel Without a Name creates a disorienting and surrealistic effect through the use of disjointed time sequences. The narrator of Novel Without a Name is Quan, a twenty-eight year old who has spent the previous ten years in the North Vietnamese Army. At eighteen, when Quan left his village, his life was one of unrealistic idealism and bright hope for the future. As Quan says, 'This war was not simply another war against foreign aggression, it was also our chance for a resurrection. Vietnam had been chosen by history: After the war, our country would become humanity's paradise. Our people would hold a rank apart. At last we would be respected, honored, revered.' Ten years of war, however, have permanently damaged Quan's expectations. Even as he buried his friends and fellow soldiers, his own survival was in doubt. He has trouble finding enough to eat (rice, plants, even grubs), he must be constantly on the lookout for bullets and bombs and he eventually attempts to stave off the horrors or war by retreating into dreams and memories, much like Tim O'Brien's narrator in Going After Cacciato. Huong creates a feeling of disorientation and surrealism through her use of disjointed time sequences as she cuts back and forth between Quan's horrific experiences in the war and the joys of his idyllic boyhood. The only thing that could end a tour of duty for a North Vietnamese soldier was a crippling injury or death, itself, and this fact, coupled with the constant fear and weariness of jungle combat eventually drive one of Quan's best friends over the brink into insanity. The images of this once hearty young man, now an emaciated, nervous wreck, hurling himself against concrete walls and barbed wire as he sings nonsense to himself are disturbing in the extreme. It gives nothing of the novel's plot away to say that Quan eventually makes a long journey home during which he encounters a variety of damaged characters: a lonely woman soldier who begs Quan to make love with her; a young soldier who apparently starved to death in the jungle; a party official who selfishly complains that all young people are 'out for their own interests, never the glory of the party.' We also meet Quan's dour father; a variety of pompous bureaucrats; a con man without the slightest trace of a conscience; and a heartbreakingly young recruit who meets with extreme tragedy. The main problem I had with this novel is that the characters, especially the secondary ones, are not at all well-drawn and believable. In fact, many of them seem to be caricatures or stereotypes. This makes it more difficult to feel empathy with them and with their plight. The prose also feels quite stilted and wooden, although this may be a problem in the translation. The thing that makes Novel Without a Name an extremely worthwhile read is Huong's wonderful ability to convey Quan's profound sense of loss and dismay as well as his emotionally-damaged state of mind and loss of innocence. As Quan, himself, says, 'We never forget anything, never lose anything, never exchange anything, never undo what has been. There is no way back to the source, to the place where the pure, clear water once gushed forth. The river had cut across the countryside, the towns, dragging refuse and mud in its wake.' Novel Without a Name, despite its flaws, is a book well worth reading; a book that underscores the universality of the war experience and details the horrific experiences of guerrilla life in the jungles of Southeast Asia.
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Overview
A piercing, unforgettable tale of the horror and spiritual weariness of war, Novel Without a Name will shatter every preconception Americans have about what happened in the jungles of Vietnam. With Duong Thu Huong, whose Paradise of the Blind was published to high critical acclaim in 1993, Vietnam has found a voice both lyrical and stark, powerful enough to capture the conflict that left millions dead and spiritually destroyed her generation. Banned in the author's native country for its scathing dissection of the day-to-day realities of life for the Vietnamese during the final years of the "Vietnam War," Novel Without a Name invites comparison with All Quiet on the Western Front and other classic works of war fiction. ...