[This week my
two Summer session courses—an FSU grad class on Ethnic American Lit and a MAVA
class on the Literature of Work—conclude. So for this week’s series I’ll highlight
and analyze some of the texts we read in both courses! Hope your summers are
going well!]
On the
historical novel that provocatively combines the themes of my two summer
classes.
For the last
long text in my Ethnic American Literature grad class, I decided to teach for
the first time a novel I first read long ago and revisited when its author
delivered the opening
creative reading at my 2016 NeMLA convention in Hartford: Monique
Truong’s The Book of Salt (2003).
Set in early 20th century Paris, Truong’s historical novel is
narrated by the Binh, a gay Vietnamese immigrant who is working as a private
chef for Gertude
Stein and Alice B. Toklas. As I understand it, Binh is an entirely
fictional character, while of course Stein and Toklas are very real historical
figures, and so Truong’s novel intertwines history and fiction in complex and
ambiguous ways. Those blurrings of genre likewise reflect various liminal sides
to Binh’s identity, from his cross-cultural story and related questions such as
those of language and family/heritage to his private and hidden sexuality and
the homosocial and romantic relationships he remembers and narrates. These
themes are all both embodied in and allegorized through Binh’s frequent
observations and reflections on food and cooking, and particularly the uses and
abuses of the titular mineral.
Those culinary
observations are more than just a representation of or allegory for other
themes or aspects of the novel, however. They’re also central elements of
Binh’s professional life and identity, and Truong’s consistent emphasis on
those elements make Binh’s profession an equally prominent part of her novel as
a whole. That sounds straightforward and non-controversial enough, but to be
honest in thinking about the Asian American novels I’ve read (a decent number,
if I still have far more to delve into of course) I have to say that there are
few that focus in any significant way on the professional identity or work
experiences of their protagonists. I’m not saying that readers don’t learn what
characters in these novels do for a living, but rather that what they do for a
living is almost always a relatively minor detail, one of many character traits
but not a central focus or theme of the text. This is particularly true of
novels that focus on first or second generation immigrant characters, likely
because other themes such as cultural conflict and assimilation are so central
to those texts, but also perhaps because professional success can seem like a latter
stage for these characters compared to the initial, foundational elements of the
immigrant experience.
Of course many
immigrants do not have the chance to find personally fulfilling work upon their
arrival in a new nation, and many others have to work at jobs or professions
far below their level of training and experience in their home country. But
novelists are not limited by the general realities of any community, and
instead can imagine stories that allow them to push readers toward new
perspectives and possibilities. By linking her protagonist’s professional
identity and passion so fully to other aspects of his identity and perspective,
and indeed by using it to connect him to many other characters and communities
in the novel, Truong does just that. She asks her readers to consider Binh’s
profession alongside his culture and heritage, his sexuality and secrets, the
many facets that contribute to his voice and identity. This choice certainly
affects the way we see Binh and his story, and adds a vital layer to the novel
that otherwise would be absent or downplayed. But it also has the potential to
shape the way we see immigrant stories overall, asking us to link ethnicity and
work in intersectional ways that can only create fuller and more nuanced
perspectives on the individuals, families, and communities in our own society
and culture.
June Recap this
weekend,
Ben
PS. Thoughts on
this text? Other readings on ethnicity and work you’d highlight?
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